


Life Is So Much Better When . . .

by itislacey



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Reminiscing, TATINOF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itislacey/pseuds/itislacey
Summary: It's been awhile since Dan and Phil were done with their tour, but that doesn't stop certain thoughts from filling Dan's mind. Withe the help of Phil, Dan remembers what his purpose in life is, and that he doesn't need a world tour to fulfill it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at one in the morning after watching the documentary for the umpteenth time, so there's that. I hope you like this! It's rather short, but still cute and fluffy! :D

Although it had been quite a while since Dan and Phil went on their unforgettable tour, there was no mistaking the familiar tune that drifted through the halls of their flat, and directly into Phil’s ears. 

For a few minutes, Phil remained on the sofa, listening quietly to the melody that filled their shared home. After he had heard the song start over, Phil decided that maybe he should check on Dan and see what, exactly, he was doing in his room down the hall.

Quietly, Phil made his way out of the lounge and crept down the hall, stopping as he got to Dan’s cracked open door. The song was louder, more prominent now that he was closer. He lightly pushed open the door, hoping for once it wouldn’t squeak loudly. His wishes were answered, for once, and he poked his head around the wooden door, spotting Dan at his piano bench, fingers flying out the keys effortlessly. 

Phil stood behind him, listening to the song as Dan flawlessly played it. It was reaching the part that everyone seemed to like the most, and Phil thought it fitting to chime in when Dan played the correct keys. “We never would have met.” 

Instantly, the song stopped and Dan jumped, his red face meeting Phil’s gaze. “Jesus, Phil!” Dan said, placing his palm over his chest. 

Phil chuckled, entering Dan’s room fully. “Why’d you stop? I was quite enjoying your playing.”

“Even after hearing it for the fourth time?” 

“Yes, even after hearing it for the fourth time,” Phil assured, grabbing a seat next to Dan on the bench. He knew that if Dan was doing something repeatedly, he must be distracting his mind from thinking. He lightly trailed his fingers over the keys, wishing that he could play the piano and play their song. “Why  _ are  _ you playing ‘The Internet is Here,’ Dan?” 

Dan let himself smile lightly, resting his fingers on a few keys, but not pressing down on them to make any noise. “Just reminiscing, I suppose.” 

Phil shot him a look, knowing that wasn’t the real reason. “The truth.”

Rolling his eyes, Dan leaned back and sighed. “I guess I’m just missing it.”

“Going on tour?” Phil asked, angling his body towards Dan.

“Not so much the tour,” Dan said, forcing his eyes to meet Phil’s, “so much as it is the feeling of having a purpose.”

At Dan’s confession, Phil frowned. He rested one hand on Dan’s back, rubbing small circles on the fabric of his shirt. This wasn’t an uncommon problem Dan had. Often times he  _ did  _ have these thoughts, and Phil had to assure him that he was wrong, that he still had a purpose. “You know that’s not true,” Phil said. “Just because we aren’t going around the world, putting on a show for people, doesn’t mean you don’t have a purpose anymore. You still do.  _ I  _ still do.”

“I know,” Dan said, groaning. He got up off the bench, heading over to his bed and plopping down on his stomach. Phil remained on the bench, watching Dan. “I just . . . I understand that rolling out videos every few weeks and doing promotional photo shoots is  _ something,  _ but I feel as if it’s not  _ enough.  _ I feel like I should be doing more. Not just sitting at home for days on end in my pj’s, scrolling through loads of emails. What point am I serving by doing that?” 

Phil’s face softened as he looked at Dan. He stood up, walking over to the bedside, but not sitting down. “You don’t  _ always  _ need to be doing something, Dan. Besides, we have been at it for  _ years.  _ I think we deserve plenty of time to ourselves to just do nothing.”

“But just how long can we do nothing, Phil? We don’t get paid for doing nothing! What happens if we stop getting an income? What then?” 

Ah, so it ran much deeper than that, so it seemed. Phil sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hand on Dan’s leg. “Do you want to tell me what’s  _ actually  _ bothering you?”

“Not really,” Dan sighed, closing his eyes.

That’s all it took for Phil to realize  _ why  _ Dan was thinking these things. Occasionally, Dan would come across something that  _ really  _ got his mind going. And once it did, it was hard to get him to stop worrying about it. In this case, Phil figured Dan must have seen something during his scrolling sessions on the internet. “You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but it might make you feel better if you do.”

“It might,” Dan grumbled, still keeping his eyes closed. “But it’s stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Phil said, getting his whole body onto the bed. “It’s okay to have bad thoughts sometimes. I get them, too. But just know that if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through battles alone.”

Dan grinned, the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. He turned over, sitting up so he could face Phil better. “I saw something about our time at Radio 1, and I realized that we had a  _ job.  _ I mean, YouTube was just a hobby that we happen to make a bit of money on, but ultimately, Radio 1 was our main source of income. And we aren’t there anymore, so what’s funding our living space? How haven’t we been evicted yet? I don’t want to have to move back in with my parents for a while. I don’t want to move away from you.”

“You don’t ever have to move away from me, Dan,” Phil said, brushing Dan’s messy fringe to the side. “Besides, we still make some money without our Radio 1 show. People still buy our books and merch. That gives us a little. And we get the occasional sponsorship from websites and games. We don’t need to make loads of money to live comfortably and happily.” 

Tears welled in Dan’s eyes, but he held them at bay. Phil  _ always  _ managed to know what to say to him. “I guess you’re right. As always. But I won’t lie. I  _ do  _ miss our tour a little. We had fun, yeah?”

“We did,” Phil agreed, reaching over Dan to grab a book from his nightstand. It was their photobook, the one they released a few months after their tour ended for good. He flipped it open, stopping on a random page in the middle. The page contained photos of them the time they went to the Chicago Bean in the United States.

“I remember that,” Dan said, scooting closer to Phil to get a better look. “I posted that picture on the internet.” He pointed at the photo on the right, the one where their reflection was cast in the monument a few dozen times. “I’m still not even sure what that monuments purpose is.” 

“I think it’s just to make Chicago’s skyline look weird. I don’t remember.” Phil smiled at the memory. They stayed in Chicago for two days, taking one of them to just walk around before their show later that evening. He flipped through a few more pages, landing on the time they went to the NASA Space Center in Texas. 

“That was a good one,” Dan said, leaning over Phil’s shoulder. “That was one of my favorite visits.”

“Really? I liked when we stopped at Niagara Falls,” Phil said, flipping back a few pages from the day they went there. 

Dan laughed, his breath tickling Phil’s neck. “I know you loved that. You’re all about nature.”

“Hey! It’s beautiful, okay? Plus, America has a lot of land and landmarks.”

“Canada is not America,” Dan said, laughing. Both dimples appeared on his cheeks, making Phil’s heart flip. 

“I didn’t go on tour for a geography lesson,” Phil said, shaking his head. 

“I can tell.”

“Leave me alone.” Phil shoved Dan, closing the book and tossing it aside. The both of them laughed, Dan falling onto his back and breathing out a sigh. Phil leaned over him, his eyes focused on Dan’s face.

“I can’t believe we did all that,” Dan whispered, picking at the string on the hem of his shirt.

“I can’t either,” Phil replied, his voice equally as low. “But I suppose that’s why we made a photobook. And a documentary. So we wouldn’t forget about the things we did.” And sure, those things were for their subscribers or anyone else who came along and wanted to see their lives for seven years, but it was also mostly for the two of them. Of course they could just remember the time they went on tour, or went around the world. But to have physical evidence of those things . . . it made it more real. Even when they’re old and gray, and their memory doesn’t serve them as well as it does now, they would always be able to look back and just  _ see.  _ See what they did together. See what they did for the world. This was their mark. They served their purpose, and they still are. Even if Dan didn’t see it. 

Dan rolled himself off the bed, heading back over to his piano. He sat down, patting the empty space next to him for Phil to sit. Phil obeyed, heading over to Dan and sitting down next to him. “You still remember the song, right?”

“How could I forget?” Phil said with a smile.

Dan grinned back, letting his fingers press on the keys. He went slow and easy, making sure Phil knew where he was at in the song. 

“I might go outside, and feel more alive,” Phil sang, glancing over at Dan, curious to see if he would join in, too. 

It didn’t take long for Dan to join in, once he got to his part. “I’d stop posting shi-”

“Watch it!” 

Dan broke character a little, chuckling as Phil kept going, but chiming in with, “Just don’t stop watching YouTube, or we’ll be unemployed!” 

Phil placed his hand over Dan’s, stopping him from playing the rest of the song. “See, there is truth behind every lyric. Especially in our song.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What you just said!” Phil laughed. “If people quit watching YouTube, then we really  _ wouldn’t  _ have a job. But we keep making videos, because it’s fun for us, live saving for some, and a job all the same.” Phil removed his hand from Dan’s, nodding at him to continue playing.

Dan breathed out a chuckle, letting his fingers fly over the keys once more as they both sang the chorus together. He kept playing, and Phil kept singing, all the way up until the point where they got to the part about where they met.

“Without the internet,” they both sang, “we never would have met!”

“We’d never be here on a stage, doing things we might regret!” Phil sang loudly, earning a good laugh from Dan. 

“God, there are so many things I regret doing on that stage,” Dan said, still playing the piano as he cut off Phil’s words. 

But when Dan got near the end, close to where the song was over for good, Phil said, “Cause life is so much better, when I get to spend it with you.”

Dan stopped playing, processing Phil’s words. They obviously weren’t the right lyrics to the song they performed on stage sixty-one or so times, but rather ones he just made up on the spot. “W-what?” 

“Dan, I like spending all my time with you. Even if we spend a majority of our time online. ‘Cause life is so much better that way,” he said, making a terrible pun on the original lyrics. “And I think that’s our purpose. Maybe not to spend our lives online, interacting with our subscribers from all over the world, but rather spending all our time with each other. You make me happy, Dan. And that’s why you’re here. That’s what your purpose is. To  _ be  _ happy, to make  _ me  _ happy. Don’t forget why you’re here in the first place. It was you who said, ‘At the end of the day, if something makes you or other people happy, that’s what’s important.’ Don’t ever forget that, Dan. Don’t ever forget your purpose.”

At that moment, Dan held his breath, only releasing it when he let his lips collide with Phil’s, allowing small sobs to escape his throat. Phil held onto him, nuzzling his head into the crying boy’s neck. “I love you,” Dan said. And it didn’t matter if it was platonically or romantically, love was love. And he would always love Phil. No matter how, he always would. “You make me happy, too, Phil.”

“And that’s what’s important,” Phil murmured, his lips forming a smile against Dan’s neck.

Yes, sometimes Dan forgot his purpose, but without Phil, he would never be able to remember what it was. Even if he went back and watched their shows and looked through their books, only Phil could remind him of why he was here in the first place: to achieve happiness. Because at the end of the day, that’s what’s important. 


End file.
